Exit
by thesoundofasmile
Summary: The team has grown and shrunk over the years. Some left, some eventually returned, and some have stuck around. What might be the thing to drive those that have remained away?
1. Penelope

This is the product of my mind's wandering into wondering what might push Emily away from law enforcement altogether. It wound down the path of Emily's exit, and then began gnawing at Garcia, Rossi, JJ, and Reid.

Enjoy.

* * *

"You get a strange feeling when you're about to leave a place, I told him, like you'll not only miss the people you love but you'll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you'll never be this way ever again."

-Azir Nafisi, Reading Lolita in Tehran

* * *

 ** _Penelope_**

* * *

 _"What are you not saying?" Garcia said, her voice beginning to rise in pitch as the dread and panic began to set in._

 _The split-second hesitation before Morgan began to answer was all it took. Her thoughts immediately began to spiral downward as her mind worked out what it was they weren't telling her. The gentle frown of confusion on her face gave way to a distressed expression as she pieced together what had happened._

 _"Did I...?" she whispered, praying that the conclusion she'd reached was not true. "Is this…?"_

 _"No, Baby Girl," Morgan was quick to assure this time, "it's not your fault."_

 _"But he… Oh god," she said in realization. "I led him straight to them. I led him straight to those sweet and-"_

 _"Garcia," JJ said with a shake of her head, as she reached a hand out to try and calm her down._

 _"Oh god," Garcia murmured as she realized what they hadn't been willing to say. He'd gotten the information from her. She'd given it so willingly, assuming that the information was going to the good guys. But he'd taken it and used it for evil. Used it to find the kids that had managed to escape the hell he'd put them through years ago. Used it to find his former victims and silence them once and for all._

 _Hotch watched as her face contorted with pain, disgust, and guilt all rolled into one. He watched as she ran from the room in a panic, Morgan hot on her heels. Hotch's gaze stayed fixed on the still swinging door where they'd left the room as he wondered if this was the thing that would finally push Penelope Garcia over the edge._

* * *

"Penelope, come on. Open the door," JJ said sadly. "Please?" she added when she got no response.

JJ let out a soft sigh. It didn't seem so long ago that she couldn't go 10 minutes without a notification of some kind from Garcia. Now it had been days and weeks since she'd last let someone into the apartment. Days and weeks since she'd walked into the BAU and resigned.

"I'm worried about you, Penelope. Please, let me know you're at least alive. Give me something here," she said, worry creeping into her tone.

A moment passed and then JJ heard her phone chime. She glanced down and saw a text from Penelope..

 _I'm alive._

JJ let out another sigh. She was still alive – that was…something.

* * *

 _Morgan found her in the bathroom, bent over the toilet and emptying her stomach's contents._

 _"Penelope," he said softly as he came up behind her and held her hair back._

 _She shook her head slowly as her body continued heaving despite a now empty stomach. "I killed them," she whispered after a moment._

 _"No, you absolutely did not," Morgan said firmly, turning her around so she was facing him. "He was an expert at blending in. We all thought he was on our side."_

 _"But I gave him the information. I told him where they were."_

 _"To save them."_

 _"But that's not what happened," she pointed out. "They're dead, and it's on me, Derek. I may not have held the knife, but I killed them," she said as she stood up and pushed past him._

 _Derek frowned as he watched the blonde make a hasty exit. The thought crossed his mind that maybe this was too much for Garcia to handle. Maybe this was too heavy a burden of guilt for her to bear without breaking._

* * *

"Garcia?" Reid called out tentatively, staring at the closed door. There was no answer, and really Reid wasn't surprised.

"I just wanted to check on you, and make sure you're okay, because JJ says you haven't been answering your phone or your texts, and Kevin says you haven't logged into any of your social media accounts."

He waited a moment to allow the usually bubbly blonde to respond, but was met with only silence.

"I've been reading about guilt," he began, unsure of what else to say. He'd never been very good at connecting with people, particularly when they were hurting. "Specifically about the Dobby Effect, so named after the house-elf character from Harry Potter who compulsively punishes himself to absolve his guilt."

Reid fell silent again, trying to figure out a way to reach his friend. She'd always been there for him, even when he'd pushed everyone away so fervently. She deserved more than half-hearted attempts to get her to talk. She deserved dogged determination.

"They say in an average week a person spends approximately 5 hours feeling guilty," he continued, idly wondering if Garcia had any hours in her days now that _weren't_ filled with feeling guilty.

"I know it's hard to get past things like this, but eventually you do, and it stops hurting so much," he said softly, remembering the guilt that had consumed him after he'd committed his mother, and after Maeve, and after everything with Hankel…

"We miss you," he said quietly. He paused again. "I brought you some mixed nuts. I'll just leave them outside your door," he said, putting down the small package on the mat in front of her door. He left them because she'd once done the same for him. He left them because like her back then, he just wasn't quite sure what to do.

* * *

 _"Hey, Garcia," Rossi said with a smile as he spied her making her way through the bullpen. "Good to see you back. The office could use a little of your…well, you." It was true – the office had seemed a bit drearier without her the last week._

 _She offered a small smile. "Thanks, Rossi. I'm actually just here to see Hotch…do you know if he's around?"_

 _"He's just finishing up a meeting with Cruz. Shouldn't be much longer. You want to wait with me in my office?"_

 _She blinked a few times as she considered his offer. "Sure," she said finally._

 _Rossi scrutinized her carefully, noting the distinct lack of flair and pizazz in her fashion choices. He knew that she'd taken the fallout of the case hard, but he hadn't quite been able to put a finger on just how badly she'd been affected. Her posture, her clothes, the tendency to avoid eye contact, waiting to meet with Hotch… It didn't take a profiler to know that Penelope Garcia was probably resigning._

 _He held in a sigh as he realized the job had taken another one. He'd watched colleague after colleague burn out and become shells of who they'd once been. He never thought he'd see the day where the intense brightness that was Penelope Garcia would go out though._

 _And yet that day had apparently come._

* * *

"Penelope?"

Alex doubted that she'd have any luck after JJ, Spencer, and Morgan had both failed to get anywhere, but she'd still felt compelled to come and at least try.

"I know you probably don't want to talk, and I totally get that," she started, leaning her back against the wall beside Garcia's door. "But I want you to know, just in case you didn't get the message from Spencer, JJ, and Morgan, that we're all here for you. If you need anything at all, just let us know."

She contemplated saying more, but if she hadn't responded to the others, then there wasn't anything else Alex could say to comfort her. They knew her better, and she trusted them more.

"Take the time you need, but remember that we're worried about you, and that we care about you. Take care, Penelope."

* * *

 _"Garcia, it's good to see you," Hotch said, motioning for her to sit before taking a seat behind his desk._

 _"Thank you, sir," Garcia said with a nod._

 _"What can I do for you?" Hotch asked, though he had a pretty good idea what she needed, and what was on that piece of paper she was clutching so fiercely._

 _"I…" she began, but quickly felt her words lump together in her throat. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I can do this anymore."_

 _Hotch's gaze stayed on her slouched posture, finding that she looked decidedly overwhelmed. "Maybe you need to take some time off."_

 _"It's been 3 weeks, Hotch," she replied quickly._

 _"Yes, but you spent that time consumed by your guilt and holed up in your apartment. Time off means more than just staying away from the office."_

 _"I don't think time off is going to fix this," she said, tremors of emotion clear in her voice._

 _"Try it," Hotch pressed gently. It was no secret that while tougher than most gave her credit for, Penelope Garcia was a gentle soul. A part of him had always known that she was the one he'd needed to really worry about. They all did._

 _She shook her head and pushed the paper she'd been clutching so tightly forward on the desk. "I'm sorry, Hotch. I really am. I love you guys…I know you all know that, but I can't do this anymore. This…this darkness is just too much now."_

 _Hotch's lips pressed together in a tight line as he considered her words. "Okay," he said softly, accepting the letter of resignation that she'd offered. The stark white of the paper stood in contrast to the dark wood of his desk, and he found his mind wandering to the pink resume she'd once handed him._

 _Garcia's eyes lifted and they locked gazes. Hotch wasn't surprised to see the emotion swimming in her eyes, but it still dealt a heavy blow to his heart. Penelope was at the centre of this family, and he feared that without her things would begin to crumble. And that wasn't even taking into consideration how the effectiveness of the team would certainly be compromised by her absence._

 _He briefly considered pressing the issue more or trying to guilt her into staying, but dismissed both quickly. That would do more harm than good. And at the root of everything, this was about Penelope Garcia, not the technical analyst of the BAU._

 _He reached into his desk drawer and pulled the card of his old therapist out. He pushed it toward her. "After Foyet, I was mandated to attend therapy. I was against the very idea of it from the start, but it helped. It really did. Think about it," he suggested._

 _She nodded and took the card, tucking it into her purse. She stood up and locked eyes with Hotch once more. "Thank you, Hotch," she said softly. "For everything," she added after a beat._

 _He stood and stepped out from behind his desk, holding his hand out. Her hand shook his weakly for just a moment before she let go and instead wrapped her arms around Hotch tightly. He was surprised by her action – hugging was not something he did with the members of his team – but wrapped his arms around her and held her for a moment._

 _They broke apart and she looked away sheepishly for a moment, as though she'd realized it was something they didn't normally do. "If you change your mind…" he began._

 _"I know where to find you," she finished for him._

 _He offered a small smile and then watched as she left his office. The darkness had somehow consumed the seemingly never-ending light of Penelope Garcia. He worried that if it could consume her, what chance did the rest of them – dull by comparison – stand?_

* * *

"Garcia! Open the door!" Emily said, dropping her bag and banging loudly on the door. JJ had told her about the unsuccessful gentle attempts by the team to coax the blonde out of the apartment. Emily had decided on the flight over that it was time for some more significant efforts. "I flew all the way from London and haven't slept in over 24 hours, so you better open this damn door!"

The door swung open suddenly and Emily stepped backwards in surprise. Truthfully she hadn't _actually_ expected Garcia to open the door. She'd expected to be met with the silence that JJ and Reid had described. But she recovered quickly and offered a half-hearted sarcastic "thank you" as she grabbed her bag and pushed past the blonde into the apartment.

"What are you doing here, Emily?"

Emily arched an eyebrow. "What am I doing here? Garcia, you quit the BAU and haven't said a word to anyone in weeks. Me being here is so not the weird thing going on."

Garcia opened her mouth to respond but instead turned around to close the door.

Emily put down her bag and dropped onto the couch. "So, are you gonna spill and tell me what the hell happened? Or am I going to have to profile you?"

Garcia let out a sigh and then sat down next to her old friend on the couch. "I assume you heard from JJ what went down?"

Emily shrugged. "I'm asking _you_ what happened."

"Unsub was going after kids, and we found out that it had been going on for awhile. The team established a pattern and we managed to find a long string of kills over the years. What was weird about this one though, was that there was an unusually high number of victims who survived."

"And you guys figured they could give some insight on the unsub's behaviour," Emily guessed.

Garcia nodded. "I compiled a list, and then made the discovery that one of them had been killed recently. And then another, and another."

"He was trying to cover his tracks," Emily interjected, her eyes scrutinizing her friend's expressions and not liking what she was seeing.

"Yeah. So we figured we had to protect the ones that were still out there, and I passed along a list of their current addresses while JJ was holding a press conference to hopefully mislead the unsub."

"And…" Emily gently prompted.

"And it turns out the unsub was a cop in that very unit, who managed to get his hands on that list before the team did."

Emily's eyes closed as she realized where the story was headed. She'd heard the brief overview from JJ, yes, but not the details.

"They didn't stand a chance. It was like I handed him a frickin' map to each and every one of them," she said bitterly, tears building in her eyes

Emily blew out a heavy breath. "And it pushed you over the edge," she guessed.

Garcia nodded. "I just…I can't fight for so many years against the evil and awful people of the world and yet somehow make so little of a dent in that giant pile of crap. I can't spend basically every waking moment hunting these creeps down and still have another hundred open cases that we can't get to."

Emily looked at her friend sadly. She knew _exactly_ what she was talking about.

"How do you still do it, Em?" she asked, wiping at her eyes to prevent the tears from falling. "With the CIA, and then the FBI, and now Interpol. How do you deal with seeing all the awful stuff in the world every single day?"

Emily paused for a moment before answering. She needed to be careful how she approached this, lest she accidentally do more harm than good. "They are few and far between," she began, "but you get those cases where there's a happy ending. Where you get to put the bad guy behind bars, return the kid to their parents, or stop the fear and terror in a community. They make the grind of the rest of the days worth it."

Garcia stayed quiet, letting Emily's words sink in. They made sense, and Garcia knew what she was talking about…but it wasn't enough.

"Why didn't you just take some time off?" Emily asked gently.

"I did," Garcia sniffed.

"I mean more than a couple weeks. Take a leave of absence and get away from everything. Travel the world, go shopping, spend some quality time with your godson…"

"I just…I couldn't be there anymore, I couldn't look at the awful, awful stuff all day long," she explained in a rush, her tears winning the battle and trickling down her face. "It was too much."

"I know," Emily soothed, wrapping an arm around her. "I know."

"I didn't wanna leave, but I can't do it anymore."

"I know, Garcia," Emily said quietly. "I know."

"I love them, but it's too much darkness."

"They know."

"I can't anymore, Em. I just can't. Just thinking about going back…" she trailed off, her voice shuddering with emotion.

"You don't have to," Emily replied gently. She knew all too well how important walking away could be, and understood the feeling of being overwhelmed by it all that her friend was describing. Things with Garcia could often be fleeting – fashion trends, moods, anger and grudges, to name a few – but somehow Emily knew that this was one thing in Penelope's life that wasn't going to fade as quickly as it had come. Somehow, she knew that Garcia had worked her last day in the BAU.


	2. Emily

**Emily**

* * *

"Emily," Clyde Easter said loudly as he banged on her door. "Emily!"

He let out a sigh that was half worry and half frustration as he considered whether he should try to go get a key from a neighbour. Years of dealing with Emily Prentiss meant he was familiar with her tendency to withdraw when she was really hurting. She would snap and push back when she was hurting, but only up to a certain point. The deeper the pain, the more she withdrew and the less she pushed back.

He hadn't heard back from her, despite multiple calls. Her assistant hadn't heard from or seen her in over a week. Clyde wondered idly if she should be making a call to her American friends to see if she'd checking in with them.

"Damnit, Prentiss, open the door!" he said loudly, hitting the door frame angrily.

"Hey, what d'you think you're doing?"

Clyde's head turned around quickly to find a slightly angry looking man staring at him. "I'm looking for a friend of mine," he explained, his tone clearly displaying his irritation with the interruption.

"Yeah? What friend is that?"

"The one that lives here," Clyde retorted snidely.

"I live here."

Clyde frowned. "What?"

The man stepped forward and jingled his keys in Clyde's face. "I said, I live here."

"You- What? Wait…you're Mark."

The man's brows furrowed as he scrutinized Clyde. "Who's asking?"

"Clyde Easter," he said, holding out his hand. "I work with Emily."

"Right, the arrogant British wanker."

Clyde let out a scoff that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "That sounds about right. Listen, I'm looking for Emily, have you seen her?"

"Not in over a week," he said with a glare. "And I'm thinking that's got something to do with you."

"Actually, no," Clyde explained. "Nasty case that I haven't received any paperwork for. And as much as she hates paperwork, she's usually very good about submitting it."

Mark exhaled heavily as he pushed past Clyde and shoved his key into the lock to open the door to the apartment. "I've got something you should see then."

Clyde felt his worry take a stronger hold on him as his stomach twisted further into a knot. He had never been one to let people in, preferring instead to keep allies and trusted colleagues. But Emily Prentiss had been different, and somehow between the arguments, accusations, and stubbornness she'd become a friend to him. Somehow, despite his best efforts to keep everyone at arm's length, he cared about her. She knew him best, and was the only one unafraid of calling him on his bullshit.

The fact that her boyfriend hadn't heard from her and apparently had something to show him, were not good indications that he was going to strike it lucky and find that she'd just gone on an impromptu vacation.

"She left this for me on the counter," Mark said, bitterness mixing with sadness in his tone.

Clyde took the piece of paper from him and recognized Emily's careful script. The letters weren't quite as tidy, and the loops weren't quite as tight as they usually were though. He wondered if she'd been emotional when she wrote this. Or maybe just tired?

 _"Mark,_

 _I'm so sorry. I can't give you an explanation that will make sense, but know that I'm so sorry. You've been nothing but kind and wonderful to me, and you don't deserve this, but I can't do this any other way. I can't see people on the worst days of their lives anymore. I can't pretend that the good balances out the evil I see and seek out every day on the job. I just can't do this anymore._

 _Please don't try to find me. I don't want to hurt you any more than I already have._

 _Know that I loved you so very much, and appreciated the warmth and joy and peace that you brought to my life. I wish you nothing but happiness and health for the rest of your life._

 _With love, always,_

 _Emily"_

He read it and re-read it several times before looking back up at Mark, whose expression showed every ounce of sadness and bitterness that Clyde had heard in his tone.

"She left," Clyde said. It wasn't a question.

Mark nodded. "She left most of her clothes, her phone, her credentials, and her gun. She took a bag, a few books, and a couple pictures."

Clyde let out a heavy exhale. She had told him that moving to London and settling in there had changed her for the better. That it had rid her of some of her demons. But people had a way of reverting back to their old ways, and that's what Emily had done. She'd run.

"Do you know where she went?" Mark asked, his voice a bit softer now that he realized how much Emily's departure had affected Clyde.

Clyde considered the question carefully before he answered slowly. "No. And if she doesn't want to be found, then she won't be."

* * *

It took him 3 weeks to find her. She'd weaved a false trail through Europe, and he had been so intent on finding her that he nearly followed it to the very end before he realized she was leading him in circles. He should have made the connection sooner.

He found her sitting in a crudely carved wooden chair in front of her grandfather's cabin on the side of the mountain, watching the sun set over the tips of the mountain range.

"What are you doing here, Clyde?" she asked quietly, not bothering to shift her gaze.

"Someone once told me that the sunsets in the French Alps were the most beautiful on the planet," he replied, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he treaded in unfamiliar waters. "I figured I would finally come and see one for myself."

She gestured to a second crudely carved wooden chair a few feet away from her, her eyes never leaving the horizon. He glanced at the setting sun for just a moment before settling his gaze firmly on her, scrutinizing her every feature. When the sun finally began to dip below the mountain range she finally turned her eyes to her former unit chief.

"You're here to bring me back to London."

Clyde shook his head. "No. I'm here to make sure you're all right," he said, his voice still gentle but growing stronger as he tries to convince her he's not pulling the wool over her eyes.

"I'm fine." It sounds like it's an automatic response, and Clyde isn't certain that it's not.

"Right. Just like you were after Doyle. And after Louise." Some venom seeps into his tone this time, and he watches and waits for her anger to flare. But it never comes.

Instead, his words lingered in the air as Emily stayed quiet, seemingly lost in thought. "Did you see Mark?" she asked finally.

Clyde nodded.

"How was he?" she asked, and this time Clyde recognizes the emotion cracking in her voice.

"Upset…frustrated…" Clyde offered softly. "Heartbroken," he can't help but add after a beat, hoping it would drive home the guilt that might make her consider coming home.

He heard her blow out a breath slowly before she replied. "I just couldn't do it anymore."

"Em, what you saw- what you went through…it's understandable that you'd need to take some time to recoup after that."

She shook her head. "It's like that all the time now, Clyde. If it's not a little girl dying in my arms, then it's an innocent young kid dying for some killer's stupid cause, or it's a person losing their future because they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Clyde thought about arguing back with points of how working to battle the evil is how you reconcile having to face it everyday, and that she's doing her part to make the world a better place. But just as he wanted to say the words, he found himself meeting her gaze, and in her eyes he just found exhaustion. It wasn't the result of running on fumes because you're so wrapped up in a case, and it wasn't even the exhaustion of having given everything you had to pull out a win on a case. No, this was the kind of exhaustion he'd seen in colleagues who had burned out and never returned to law enforcement, no matter how skilled they had been at their jobs, and no matter how many compelling arguments were thrown their way.

She'd been working in law enforcement since she graduated from college, and in that time, she'd been exposed to the worst kinds of people and situations that society had to offer. She'd been asked to compromise her ideals and get close to terrorists because it was for the greater good. She'd pushed aside her own happiness and her own wants and needs to make sure that the killers and other nefarious characters were taken off the streets.

He found that he couldn't look away from her eyes. Once bright and eager, now they were dull and tired. Emily Prentiss' famed compartmentalizing skills had finally been beaten.

"Okay," he said softly, nodding slowly.

Her eyes widened fractionally at his response – she had clearly been expecting more fight from him. "Did you eat?"

Clyde tries to squash the surprise, but can't help it from spreading on his face and in his reply. "I- No, not yet."

"I have some stew in the cabin, if you'd like," she offered. She'd said it like they weren't in the middle of nowhere, far away from the creeping eyes and tendrils of society, and Clyde finds himself wondering just how long Emily had been thinking about leaving everything behind.

* * *

The last vestiges of the day had disappeared when the sun set beneath the tall mountains that surrounded them. Slowly the stars began to appear, and having lived most of his life in London where glimpses of the stars were few and dull at best, Clyde found himself completely enraptured by the view.

He glanced over at Emily and found her gaze aimed toward the sky, her expression serene. He had never pegged her to be the sort of person who found peace in nature. She'd grown up in cities, and all her apartments had been in urban centres. In all the time that he'd known her, she'd never mentioned being particularly fond of nature, and there had never been any indication that it would be the thing to bring her such peace.

But it _had_ brought her peace, and for that Clyde was thankful. He hadn't been lying when he had told her that he wasn't there to bring her back to London. It had taken once glance to convince him that she knew how to heal herself better than he did. He needed to know she was all right though.

"Do you miss anything from home?"

He was surprised to hear a quiet scoff. "I haven't really known where home was for a long time now, Clyde."

He paused, considering her response. He knew that London had never been home for her. He had thought that maybe she could _make_ it home when Mark came into the picture, but then things had gone sideways and she had run.

"Are you home now?"

She looked down from the sky and met his gaze. "Yes. And no," she offered with a small smile.

Surprisingly, he understood. His research had revealed that she'd been close with her grandfather, and he imagined that it was one of the only constants in her childhood. But she had come back to it in such upheaval emotionally speaking that surely, she couldn't just settle into the blanket of familiar comfort.

This time it was Emily who broke the silence. "I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye."

"You scared the hell out of me," Clyde replied simply, the implications of guilt and accusations simmering under the surface of his words. "When Mark showed me that letter, I thought you'd gone and done something drastic."

"Moving up into the Alps without even bothering to resign isn't drastic?" she quipped, an attempt at breaking the slight tension that is instinctual.

Clyde decided to humour her, and offered a grin. "I suppose it is."

They fall into silence yet again, and this time he's surprised when it's Emily who brings them back to the uncomfortable topic of what led to her abrupt departure.

"I just couldn't face having to wake up and know that I was going to have to go into work and face another day of fighting for a losing effort," she explained.

Clyde understood on some level what she was saying. It wears on a person when you have to accept that you will never win the war despite the victories in battle. "Isn't it better than giving up altogether?" he asked. It's not accusatory. He's genuinely curious.

"I put in my time. That fight is for someone else now," she answered after a moment.

It sounds defeatist, but Clyde understood. She _had_ done her time, and wouldn't be able to contribute anything more. It had gotten to be too much, and finally, _finally_ , after all these years, Emily Prentiss had chosen to look after herself first.

He exhaled, his acceptance of her decision bringing him peace. She had done what was right for her, and she would be okay. Eventually.

"So you'll just live out your years as a mountain woman?"

She chuckled. "Something like that."

"Fancy some company from a handsome devil of a man now and then?" he teased, but the question was genuine. He wasn't willing to let her cut all contact. He cared about her too much to let her slip away.

Emily chuckled, but looked thoughtful as she considered his words. "I think I could put up with that."

"Good. This place might be the only place in the world that my assistant won't be able to find me."

Emily laughed again, and Clyde found himself smiling at the sound. Laughter meant she was healing.

* * *

"Can you mail these for me?" Emily asked, handing him a small stack of envelopes.

"Trying to throw them off the trail?" he asked, noting the names of her former team adorning the fronts of the envelopes. He was happy to note that the script was back to the tight and careful writing he remembered.

She chuckled. "There's no point – they'll figure it out. I'm just not sure when I'll be headed into town again."

"Fair enough. Is there anything you need from your flat?"

She shook her head. "No, I think I've got everything that I need."

"All right," he replied. He had every intention of putting her things into storage, because he knew there would come a day where she would want something from her old life, and he wanted to be able to give that to her.

"Take care, darling."

"You too, Clyde," she said, surprising him by wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. "And thank you."

"No need to thank me. You're not rid of me yet."

She smiled as she stepped out of their embrace. "Watch out for bears, city boy."

"I could say the same to you, mountain lady."

Another chuckle. "Goodbye, Clyde."

"Goodbye, Em."


	3. JJ

**JJ**

* * *

Seated in an oversized and inviting leather chair, JJ's gaze was fixed on the front window of the café. One hand was curled around a large mug of tea that had long since grown cold, and her head was ever so gently resting on the other. There was a steady stream of people passing by the café, but JJ didn't see a single one of them. Her mind was a million miles away, busy trying to make sense of the jumbled thoughts that were bouncing around.

"JJ…. Hey….. JJ!"

"Huh?" JJ said in surprise as she was jerked out of her thoughts.

"Aw shit, you okay?" Derek said, his gaze finding the spilled tea that had sloshed out of her mug.

"What?" JJ said, her confusion evident as she tried to orient herself. "Oh, no, I'm good. It's cold," she explained, waving off his concern.

Derek raised an eyebrow as he handed over some napkins and sat down in the chair across from JJ. "Right…"

JJ ignored his skeptical response and wiped up the liquid quickly, dabbing at the small wet spot on her jeans. "So what are you doing here?"

He held up the bag of coffee in explanation. "Coffee run. I realized I had used up the last of our coffee yesterday, and we needed some of the good stuff because Hank has been particularly restless this week."

"How is the little guy anyway? Feels like forever since we last got to see him."

"Aw, he's good. Rolled over for the first time this morning," Derek said, a wide grin spreading on his face.

JJ let out a light laugh and smiled widely at her friend's enthusiasm. To think big, strong, tough, macho Derek Morgan was excited about a baby rolling over… "Enjoy the lack of forward movement while you can – when crawling begins all hell breaks loose."

Derek just grinned even wider. "Honestly? I can't wait."

"You're going to chase him around the room on your hands and knees, aren't you?" JJ asked knowingly, another chuckle sneaking out.

"You better believe it."

JJ shook her head and smiled. She marvelled at how happy he was, and how easily he had been able to remove himself from the BAU. Every single time she had let the idea of leaving the BAU float through her mind, something would convince her to quickly dismiss the notion. And yet here was Derek Morgan, a man who had sacrificed so much and remained loyal through the years to the job, able to step away and not miss a beat.

A bomb strapped to her husband's chest, being thrown in way over her head into an op in the Middle East, having 2 children, being put in harm's way on a daily basis…and still JJ had stuck with the BAU. They were all very valid reasons to walk away from the job, and yet the thought of leaving hadn't lingered in her mind for more than a moment.

Will had stopped trying to convince her to leave. Maybe he understood (better than she did) that she needed to be doing this job. They had stopped bickering and fighting as much over it as they used to, but somehow in the space of all that silence JJ found herself seriously considering leaving. The team was already starting to slowly break apart with Emily having left for London years before, and now with Derek stepping away to be with his family.

"And how's Savannah doing?" JJ asked, realizing she'd been quiet longer than she should have been.

"She's good, she's good," Derek replied with a nod. He eyed her carefully, as though trying to suss out what was bothering the blonde. "I'm gonna grab a coffee, you want a refill?" he asked as he stood up.

"Nah, I'm still working on this tea," she answered.

"I'm gonna get you a coffee," he replied, his gaze falling on the near empty mug of cold tea. "And I'm not taking any arguments from you, blondie."

She offered a weak smile as she shook her head gently. He offered a Derek Morgan grin in reply, made his way over the counter, and ordered their coffees. Her mind wandered back to the ease with which he'd transitioned out of the BAU. How had he been able to just walk away from the job that he'd done for so long? From the job that he'd been so passionate about. From the job that had _been_ his life for so many years.

She wasn't at all surprised to see the extra-large mug that he came back with and set down on the table beside his chair. She was all too intimately aware of the exhaustion that came with a baby. He carefully handed over a smaller mug to her, and then sat back down.

"So. Blondie. What's new?"

"Oh, you know. Nothing really. Same old, same old. _You're_ the interesting one! Other than rolling over, what's the little guy been up to?" she replied quickly.

"Good. Already breaking the hearts of all the ladies he meets." Derek indulged her topic switch, but was well aware that JJ was trying to keep the conversation away from her. It was a dead giveaway, and he knew that _she knew_ it was a dead giveaway. Did she want him to push her? To scratch below the surface?

"I bet."

"Still blows my mind every single day that he's here," Derek continued as he tried to decide the best approach to get her to answer truthfully.

JJ chuckled quietly. "Yeah, that feeling sticks around for a while."

He decided to be blunt. "But c'mon, girl. There's something that's festering in that pretty little head of yours, so spill," he said, shifting in his chair to get more comfortable.

JJ hesitated for just a moment as she toyed with continuing to evade his questions. She gave up the thought almost as soon as it surfaced – Derek Morgan did not let things go, so it would be a fruitless effort to try and avoid talking about it. And if she was honest with herself…she _wanted_ to talk about it. And he of all people could give her perspective on it.

Her gaze fell to the coffee she held in her hands, trying to give herself a moment to formulate her thoughts into words. She took a sip, and then took a breath. "I'm trying to figure out why it is I haven't been able to walk away from the BAU."

If he was surprised, Derek didn't let it show. He leaned back as he crossed his right ankle over his left knee and brought his coffee up to his lips to take a sip. "What've you come up with so far?"

JJ let out a frustrated sigh. "Nothing."

"Nothing at all?" he echoed, the smallest hint of doubt in his voice.

She shook her head as she held up her free hand in a shrugging motion. "With everything that's happened…Will almost being blown up, having two kids, being thrown into a war zone, and facing these evils day in and day out, and still I haven't left."

Derek rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he considered her words. To him it was obvious why she stayed. It was the same reason he'd stayed in the unit for so long. They both wanted to try and reduce the evil in the world, to bring down the bad guys taking advantage of scared and vulnerable people, to protect and do good.

"We've all got long lists of things that should have driven us from the job," he answered cryptically.

JJ frowned at his vague reply. "I guess. Why'd you finally step away?"

Derek took a long sip from his coffee while he formed his answer. "After everything that went down…I felt like there was something that needed to be healed. I wasn't broken or anything, but it just felt like I needed to step away and be with my wife and my son, and let myself be a dad."

JJ nodded, but was still having trouble reconciling why that same feeling hadn't bloomed in her after her kidnapping.

"You're different than me though, JJ. For years and years, it felt like my role was the protector, and I couldn't step away because that would've left you guys without someone in that role." He paused for a moment, working his way through his slightly jumbled thoughts. "I think you've been a protector too, but in a less physical way than me. I mean, don't get me wrong, you're a complete badass, and I would definitely not want to cross you, but you've always been more about protecting the well-being and emotions of people rather than wanting to put a beat down on an unsub for what they did."

JJ stayed quiet, sensing that Derek had more to explain and not really being able to formulate a response anyway. But he didn't expand, and JJ found herself trying to reconcile his words with her own thoughts in an uncharacteristic silence.

"You guys have a tough case this week?" Derek finally asked, sensing that JJ needed a way back into the conversation.

She shook her head. "Nope."

"Then what's got you thinkin' about all of this?"

JJ shrugged. "You?"

Derek paused as he took another sip of his coffee. "Do you want to leave now?"

JJ shrugged again. "I honestly don't know. Maybe."

"Why?"

It took JJ a moment to realize she actually had an answer to his question. "I feel like I'm reacting more like a mother than an agent sometimes."

"Why is that a bad thing?" His tone wasn't accusatory, but genuinely curious.

"I made a choice on a case…I had to choose between saving a boy and a girl, and I chose the boy because he reminded me of Henry."

"And you're worried that your judgment is clouded now," he finished her thought. She nodded in agreement.

He held her gaze for a moment and considered her words. He wasn't entirely convinced that was the full reasoning behind why she was suddenly considering leaving the BAU, but he didn't think he was going to be able to pull all of it out of her.

"There are other ways you could fulfil that need to protect," he offered, thinking of various positions in the Academy and in the Bureau that would be a good fit. "Other jobs that might lead to less burnout, but still give you that satisfaction of knowing you're making a significant impact on people and on battling the evil in the world."

"Mmm," she hummed in reply, partially distracted by the fact that she'd finally said out loud what had the thought of leaving swirling around in her mind.

"I get that you need the job in order to be happy, and to feel like there isn't something missing in your life. I get that, I really do, but I think we all kind of brainwash ourselves into thinking that we _need_ to be in the BAU to do that. Maybe part of that is because of how close we all got, and all the shit we went through together…I don't know. But look at Emily. She up and left us all behind and took a desk job across the world, and I've never seen her happier."

JJ blinked as she began to realize what Derek was saying.

"I'm not saying you have to leave the BAU, but maybe just look at what else is out there. See if there's something that pulls at you or something you think you could make an impact doing." He paused as he saw the realization blooming in her eyes. "Take a look and see if there's something that will make that feeling in the pit of your stomach when your cell phone rings go away."

JJ's eyes widened as he hit the nail on the head. Somewhere along the line things had shifted, and she dreaded going into work. Maybe it was because she was worried about reacting as a mother, maybe it was because she was afraid her sons would grow up without their mother, maybe it was because she was burned out. Whatever the reason, she understood the feeling that had been sticking around for weeks now. And the more she thought about it, the more leaving the BAU was sounding like a viable option.

Derek's phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen. "Shit. I'm sorry, JJ, but I have to get going."

JJ waved off his apology. "Oh, don't even worry about it. Thanks for the coffee."

"Anytime," he said as he rose to his feet. "And JJ?"

"Yeah?"

"If you ever wanna talk…"

"Yeah," she said with a small nod. "I know where to find you."

* * *

"Babe, can you get that?" Savannah called out in between Hank's boisterous giggles.

Derek shook his head as he let out a laugh of his own. "Yeah!" he called back, making his way to the front door.

He opened it just as Hank began his next round of uncontrollable giggling. His eyes widened as he saw his friend and former colleague standing on his porch, looking very uncertain.

"JJ," he said, his tone giving away his surprise. "Hey."

"Hey," she replied quietly, trying to keep her voice even.

Derek frowned as he saw the moisture in her eyes. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head vehemently. "Nothing. I just…I handed in my resignation today."

Immediately JJ felt herself enveloped in a tight hug. "Good for you, girl. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," she said with a watery smile as he released his hold on her. "I'm sorry…I don't know why I came here," she began to apologize.

"Hey, hey. None of that. You can always come here, JJ. You know that," Derek interrupted. "You wanna come in? The little man's got a bit of a giggling fit going on right now, as you can tell, and that will brighten anyone's day."

JJ paused to listen to the laughter echoing off the walls of the house. She smiled as she recalled Henry and Michael's nonsensical and contagious giggling. It reminded her of what she was gaining with stepping away from the BAU – time with her family, peace of mind for them…and for her.

"Yeah," she answered finally. "I can stay for a little while."

"Come on in then," Derek said, stepping back to allow her to enter his home.

Her eyes spotted the various toys strewn about the room, before meeting Derek's gaze once more. He was a reminder that as much as it was twisting in her gut – it was going to get better. He was a reminder that she'd made the right choice. He was a reminder that for all it had brought her, her time in the BAU wasn't the be-all-end-all of her life.


	4. Spencer

_As an FYI...This one was written long before this season's story line came to fruition, so it doesn't exactly play nicely. Also worth mentioning..there are several time jumps, noted by the page breaks._

* * *

 **Spencer**

* * *

"Hey, boss," JJ said with a cheeky grin as she leaned against the doorframe of Emily's office.

"Would you stop with the boss thing already? It's already weird enough being in Hotch's old office."

JJ just laughed. "He did seem like he was going to be here forever, didn't he?"

Emily nodded as she put down her pen and leaned back in her chair. "Yeah. You need something?"

"Just checking in about Spence. Did he call?" JJ asked, her tone betraying the worry she was trying to contain. It had been a few weeks already and he had stopped returning texts and phone calls. His only contact with the team was through his calls to Emily, and JJ would be lying if she wasn't a little put off that he didn't return _her_ calls.

Emily held in the frustrated sigh that she was desperate to let out. JJ asked _every_ day. She knew it wasn't fair of her to judge the blonde for her worry about her friend, but it was starting to drive Emily crazy. She was handling the situation, and if things reached a point where action needed to be taken, Emily would make that call. She didn't need to be hounded every day about it. It's not like she was going to forget about him.

"Yes. His mom's having a good day."

"Really? How did Spence sound?" JJ asked eagerly.

"He sounded like Spencer," Emily said with a shrug. She knew JJ wouldn't like the answer, but the stack of files and budget reports was beginning to cast a shadow over the rest of her desk and she had been making good headway on it before she'd been interrupted…

"C'mon, Em. He won't return my calls, give me _something_ here."

This time Emily did let out a sigh. "Jayje, he's working through it. He'll call when he's ready."

"I'm not worried about that," she protested immediately.

Emily arched an eyebrow. "Yes, you are. But you need to give him some space. He hasn't forgotten about you, Jayje."

"I'm just worried about him," she said with a sad sigh.

"I am too, but we're giving him what he needs. If he doesn't check in, or he starts sounding less like the Spence we know and love, I'll make sure we mobilize."

JJ didn't say anything in reply, but offered a half-smile.

Emily took her lack of response as the end of the conversation. Back to work mode. "Can you get that Roberts report to me by the end of today? I'm starting to take some heat on it being outstanding."

"You got it, boss."

Emily let out the frustrated sigh without hesitation this time, but couldn't help the laugh from escaping at the same time.

* * *

It had been 4 weeks, and Emily had finally reached the point where she wasn't able to keep classifying Reid's time off as simply time off. Higher ups were starting to ask questions, and it was being suggested that if he wasn't going to return that she should fill the spot or make the cut for budgetary reasons.

Her phone buzzed and she glanced at the screen, surprised to find that it was already 12:30am. Spencer had missed checking in. He'd been diligent about calling every day to check in, as promised, so it was strange that she hadn't heard from him. Not wanting to jump to conclusions just yet she typed out a text to him asking him if everything was okay. Not that he'd text back, but he would read it at the very least.

She navigated to the notification that had made her phone vibrate in the first place and found a text from JJ.

 _Hear from our loveable genius today?_

Emily definitely wasn't going to answer that, but she knew if she didn't say something JJ would persist.

 ** _Go to bed, Jayje._**

Hopefully JJ would read Emily's avoidance as frustration and assume the answer was yes. Hopefully.

* * *

Spencer rubbed his eyes, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. It had been a long day filled with visits with his mom and a ton of time in the library doing research. It was how most of his days went now. Aside from the calls with Emily- Wait. Shit.

He grabbed his phone quickly and checked the time, pausing to consider whether it might be too late to call. She would probably be worried if he didn't call at all…and he could just leave a message if she didn't answer. And judging by the time, Spencer was pretty sure she wouldn't answer.

 _"Spence, hi."_

"Emily," he said in surprise. "What are you still doing up? It's late there."

 _"Just lost track of time at the office."_

"You shouldn't be working so late," he said, slightly worried that she was still at the office after midnight.

 _"Don't worry, handsome. I actually just parked my car at my building."_

"Good," he said with a nod that she couldn't see.

 _"So…how are you?" she asked gently._

"I'm fine," he replied honestly. Relatively speaking, he was fine.

 _"And how's your mom?"_

Spencer found himself holding back the easy answer. She wasn't fine – but Emily, and everyone really, already knew that. Comparatively speaking she was doing well, but there was still that nagging feeling in his gut…

"She's okay," he said finally, realizing he'd been quiet for too long.

 _"But…"_

Of course she'd know he wasn't being entirely forthcoming. Maybe it had been obvious in his tone, or his silence, or maybe she just knew him that well.

"It's nothing," he replied with a shake of his head as he got up to walk around the room. "She's fine."

He heard a soft sigh. _"Spence…"_

It took him less time than he thought to let go of his resolve to keep his worries to himself. "I have a bad feeling," he said, feeling slightly ridiculous and very childlike.

 _"About your mom?"_

"Yeah. She's been doing okay lately, but I just can't shake the feeling that things are going to take a turn for the worse. I can't explain it – and I know it doesn't make much sense-"

 _"It makes perfect sense, Spencer. Sometimes you just have a feeling."_

"I just-" he began, but stopped abruptly, not sure what he wanted to say. He let out a heavy sigh. "I came here because…because I'd stayed away and avoided taking care of her for so long, and that's not what she deserved. She deserved a better son," he said sadly, feeling the guilt of so many years apart weigh down on him again.

 _"She's proud to be your mother, Spencer. And you didn't abandon her. You write, you call, you visit."_

"Not enough."

 _"You do the best that you can, Spencer. You have a demanding job, but she understands that your work is an important part of your life – and she's proud of what you do. She knows that it's a part of who you are."_

"Still, I'm her son. I should've-" he began to protest, but was cut off by Emily almost immediately.

 _"Spence, you're talking like she's not still here. You've spent the last 4 weeks with her. I'd say that's a pretty strong statement in and of itself."_

4 weeks seemed so painfully short in comparison with a lifetime. He let out another sigh. "I don't think _-"_

 _"Spencer, listen to me. You don't deserve this pile of guilt that you're putting onto your shoulders. All your life you've done the best that you can for her. Sometimes that means a phone call, sometimes that means a letter, sometimes that means spending time with her in person, and sometimes that means making the hard decisions for her. You've never made a decision about her or for her based on a selfish thought. You've always put her first. Always."_

Spencer felt his composure break and felt the tears escape. He had wanted to avoid this, but somehow Emily – the master of composure and holding in feelings – had broken down those walls he'd tried to put up. He sniffed as he tried to regain control of his emotions, and his thoughts – which had begun running frantically in different directions.

 _"You need anything from me?"_

Spencer considered her question. What he needed was selfish, but for some reason he had no issue with asking for it. "More time. I know I've reached my-"

 _"Don't worry about that. I'll make it work."_

"I'm sorry, Emily," he apologized. He may not have had an issue asking for it, but he still felt bad that he was leaving the team short-handed. "I know it's not-"

 _"Don't even try it, handsome. Whatever you need, okay? Just call."_

"Okay," he sniffed. "I should go though – you need to sleep," he said, remembering that his time zone was behind hers.

 _"Yeah," she replied with a timely yawn. "I'll talk to you later. Make sure you check in, okay? I was worried about you."_

"I'm sorry – I just lost track of time."

 _"I know. It's okay. Goodnight."_

"Goodnight, Emily."

 _"Oh, Spencer?" she said just before he ended the call._

"Yeah?"

 _"Could you answer one of JJ's calls or emails? She's driving me up the wall asking after you."_

"I will," he said guiltily. He had been avoiding both JJ and Garcia's attempts to reach out. "Talk to you soon."

* * *

"Emily, do you have a minute?" Spencer asked as he poked his head into her office. He'd been back a few weeks and had struggled to settle back into the swing of things – he found his mind wandering back to his mom often. He knew that Emily had noticed, but she hadn't said anything, and for that he was grateful. Although it made what he was about to do all the more difficult.

Emily looked up from the file she was making notes on. "Sure," she said with a nod, putting down her pen. "What's up?"

"I need to take some more time off," he said, his gaze falling to find a nick in the wood of the edge of her desk.

"Is your mom okay?" she asked, eyeing him carefully.

"Yes, but the next phase is starting, and there's a lot of questions I have for her doctor."

"I don't suppose you could just call him?" she asked hopefully, but knowing the answer would be no.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I have a lot more research to do, and-"

She sighed and pulled a form out of her drawer. "I figured. Fill this out and I'll submit it."

"Thank you."

She offered a small smile in reply.

"Spencer?" she called out just as he reached the doorway.

"Yes?"

"There's only so many more times I can make this work for you. I understand you need to be with your mom, but the brass is going to start getting antsy," she said softly.

"I understand," he said with a nod. He knew she was going to bat for him, and he was incredibly grateful for it.

"And our agreement still stands – you check in with me every day – no exceptions."

"Understood," he replied with a nod and then headed back to his desk.

* * *

Spencer's fingers drummed rhythmically on his desk as he waited for Emily to settle into her office for the day before going in. He didn't want to spring this on her right from the get-go, but he wanted to make sure he got in before they heard any cases. She deserved as much time as possible.

"You okay, Reid?"

"What?" Spencer said distractedly, swinging his gaze over to Luke.

"I asked if you were okay – you look a little….I don't know."

"I'm fine," he replied quickly. "And besides, we don't profile each other."

"Sorry," Luke apologized, holding up his hands. "I didn't mean to offend you. Just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"No, of course. I'm sorry. I'm just a little on edge."

"Stuff with your mom?" he asked knowingly.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

They fell into silence, and Luke eventually started reading through the top file from the stack on his desk. Spencer returned to staring at his friend and supervisor's office, wishing very much that he didn't have to have this conversation.

The phone call with his mom earlier had solidified his choice. He couldn't keep going back and forth. It wasn't fair to his mom, and it definitely wasn't fair to the team. Emily had gone out on a limb for him, and he knew she was taking heat for allowing his continued absences and not filling his spot on the team.

The minutes ticked by painfully slowly, but eventually sufficient time had passed that Spencer felt comfortable going up to her office. He grabbed the file from his desk and began to head up the stairs before he could change his mind.

He knocked on the slightly ajar door – she didn't often leave it closed, preferring to have it open…something Spencer suspected had to do with her desire to make sure they knew she was still available if they needed her.

"Come in," she said tiredly.

Spencer blinked as he pushed open the door. His gaze found hers and he offered a small smile. "Hey, you have a minute?"

Emily nodded and put down her pen as she leaned back in her chair and began to massage the bridge of her nose. "I'm not going to like what you're going to tell me, am I?"

Spencer swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat that had suddenly appeared. "Probably not."

She let out a sigh and leaned forward, clasping her hands together and resting them on the desk. "Let's rip the band-aid off then. How long this time?"

Her words were not malicious, and her tone was tired, yes, but still supportive. Even after so many requests for time off, she was still willing to make it work, and make sure he had a job to come back to – and for that he felt incredibly grateful.

"I'm…I'm not coming back," he said, trying to muster some courage. His mouth had gone dry, and suddenly he was acutely aware of every ounce of worry and anxiety that had settled in him this morning.

Emily's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she closed them and let out a heavy breath. "When do you leave?" she asked.

"I can stay a couple of weeks," he said quickly, "to hopefully give you time to find someone else so that the team isn't left short-handed."

"And you're sure?" she asked.

He was a little surprised she hadn't asked why he was leaving yet, and not just taking another week off. But then – Emily Prentiss was no slouch profiler. She probably knew he was leaving when he walked into the office.

"Yes," he answered with a nod. "I can't go back and forth anymore, Emily. It's not fair to you guys, and it's not fair to my mom. I can't give her more time, or fix her mind, but I can give her more time _with me_."

"And you don't want a sabbatical or extended leave? You want to resign?"

He nodded. "I've loved being on this team. You guys have taught me so much, and I've done good here. But it's time for my life to be about something more than just my work."

"I understand," Emily said with a nod, a sad expression settling on her face. "I don't like it, but I understand."

To her credit, she didn't ask him if he wanted to reconsider, or try to dissuade him. She knew he'd put in the time to think about this, and hadn't made the decision lightly. And she perhaps more than any of them knew how hard it was to decide to leave.

He slid the folder forward, and then stood up. She stood up and then made her way around her desk. "Our deal still stands, Spencer. I want you to check-in with me. I might not be your supervisor, but I'm your friend and I care about you."

He smiled, feeling expected tears prick at his eyes. "Thank you."

She nodded and then wrapped her arms around him tightly. "I know you're not a hugger, but this one's for me," she whispered.

"Thank you, Emily. For…for everything," he said sadly as they broke apart.

"You're welcome," she said with sad smile. "When do you want to tell the team?" she asked after a moment.

"Today, I think. We don't have a case, do we?"

Emily shook her head. "Not yet, no."

"Then today," he said with a nod.

* * *

"Spencer, did you find that book yet?"

Spencer smiled as his fingers drifted over the large bookcase, searching for the well-worn book that she liked to read to him. "Just grabbing it now, Mom."

"Well hurry up, we don't have all day!"

He couldn't help the smile from spreading further. Her good days had been more consistent, and she had more energy now. There were still rough patches, and some days she couldn't recognize him, but overall things were more stable.

"Coming, Mom," he called as his fingers found the familiar creases of the book and plucked it from the shelf.

Her upturn had solidified his choice in his mind. He needed to step away from the BAU and spend more time with his mom. He needed to let his mother spend more of the precious moments she had left with her son – whom she often described as the light of her world.

"You ready?" she asked, taking the book from his hands and looking up at him expectantly.

He nodded as he sat down on the couch next to her and leaned back into the cushions, watching as she settled in herself.

"Good. Who knows how much longer this mind of mine is going to behave," she said with a cheeky grin.

Whether she was talking about the Alzheimer's or the schizophrenia he wasn't sure, but the fact that she was happy and content to be reading with him again told him what he really needed to know – he'd made the right choice leaving the BAU.


End file.
